


May These Words

by onepieceofharry



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Kid Fic, M/M, Teenage Tony
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-03-25 11:45:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13833594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onepieceofharry/pseuds/onepieceofharry
Summary: Tony Stark has a child at nineteen and does everything in his power to raise the kid on his own.





	1. Prologue

It had always been a concern of his, to hear those two damning words that would change his life forever.

But when he pictured it in his head the woman was meek, clearly distraught at being forced into such a position. Or, sometimes, Tony imagines a soft happiness in the face of a previously unnamed conquest, a contentment with the circumstances; knowing that that was the way things had to be.

The fear of such a confrontation is nothing compared to the real thing.

“I’m pregnant.”

And the girl clearly is, her stomach pushing out her blouse to the point of breakage, but she doesn’t act it. There’s no trepidation or joy; only dancing, eager eyes.

“I-” Tony stutters because what can he say? “Is it mine?”

The girl cocks her hip and he can practically see the dollar signs in her eyes. “What do you think genius?”

***

Her name is Steph, and they’d only done it once.

“Once is enough.” Howard slurs, four drinks past his threshold after a rather tense meeting with Steph’s family. “Fucking kid couldn’t keep it in his pants.”

Mom won’t even look at him, pale and withdrawn. She’s sitting primly on the edge of the dinning chair just as she had through the entire meeting to hash out details on what to do. Of course, Steph is already six months along and only thought to tell them now.

“You’re going to be paying child support the rest of your life and that’s before the hush money we’re going to have to bribe those evil sons of bitches with. Which means I’ll be paying. Fucking kid.”

Tony doesn’t say anything, just stares down at the immaculate tablecloth he’d stared at most of his life during family meals. He can’t breathe.

***

They write and re-write the plan, over and over again.

Tony would pay child support until the kid was eighteen. The kid would take Steph’s last name - Humphrey, what kind of garbage name is that - and to the public eye this never happened. The Stark heir never fathered an illegitimate child and their reputation would be untouched.

At a cost.

Tony says nothing as the adults - the real adults - talk over him and try and outmaneuver the other for more money. He’s beyond out of his depth. The shock he felt hearing those words haven’t left him and he’s still numb, letting things progress outside of his control because what can he do? What can he say? It’s for the best. He would make a terrible father.

***

It’s a stroke of luck that Tony is there when the baby is born.

He wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near Steph when it happened but he’d wanted to talk, to make sure she was okay because even though he thought all she wanted was his money he knew how parents could manipulate their children and he - he just wanted to make sure the mother of his child was okay.

She’s fine, laughing in his face over brunch in some swanky restaurant he’d invited her to, and tells him to keep his concerns far away from her future life. Tony suddenly remembers that she’s going to be a parent.

Of course, that’s when she goes into labour.

Tony drives her to the hospital but it goes too quick, her water breaking all over the backseat of his expensive foreign car. When they get to the hospital they are immediately swept into the birthing room and somehow Tony gets pulled along too. They assume he’s the father, which he is, and tells him to support the mother. Steph screams through the birth and Tony falters every time.

And then.

And then his son is born.

The nurses quickly wash him and do some kind of checks, Tony doesn’t really know, but he does recognize when they suction the fluids out of his airways and his crying gets louder. But then, they wrap him in a towel and plop him in Tony’s arms while they check on the mother.

He’s disgusting, pink and still covered in slime and screaming himself hoarse but somehow Tony is crying along with him, gleefully holding the squirming monster and clutching him to his chest. He looks like an alien or a hairless cat but Tony presses his forehead against the baby and nuzzles close.

Something shifts and then suddenly he can _breathe._

Sunlight, is all he can compare the feeling to. A dawn breaking through the night and shining down, lighting up the world and letting him see colour for the first time oh god stop comparing him to a literal ray of hope you can’t-

“Okay Sir, let mommy have a turn with her new baby.”

The nurse smiles kindly and gestures to the new mother sobbing into her pillow. Tony shudders and steps closer, fully intending to hand his son off to his mother because that makes sense doesn’t it?

What doesn’t make sense is the feral glare of hatred directed at the bundle in his arms. “Get that fucking thing away from me.”

The nurse rushes to soothe Steph after her trauma but Tony gratefully tucks his son firmly into his arms and sits down on one of the chairs peppering the delivery room walls. His kid is still crying, and it aches in his heart in a special way. The doctor tell him it’s a good thing, a good set of lungs, and Tony believes them but it still hurts. Steph still won’t look in their direction as the nurses finish cleaning her up.

So…he sits there. He doesn’t really know what to do but he can’t leave. The child in his arms is his…a person. A whole person with Stark DNA oh god he can’t let him be raised by these people. He’s already going to be fucked up but he cannot let him be raised by these people with greed in their veins. These people who are going to take him away.

“I’m not doing it.” Tony says over the wails of the baby.

Steph sends him a sweaty glare from her position on the bed. The room is empty now, the nurses giving them some privacy before they give the baby a proper bath.

“I’m not staying away and I’m not paying you to keep this quiet.”

Steph gapes.

“We’ll work out custody in court. We can split the time evenly-”

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

Tony shuts up and resists the urge to cover his son’s ears.

“You pay me the money or you take the kid. Don’t saddle me with this mess with no compensation you selfish asshole. I just pushed that fat head through my goddamn vagina, I don’t owe the kid anything more than that.”

Revulsion fills him, so strong it makes bile build in his throat. The baby is still crying and unconsciously Tony lifts him into a new position, tucking him into the crook of his arm and starting to rock his son in a soothing motion.

“Could you shut it up? God I have the worst headache.”

And that’s enough for Tony to let out a bitter laugh, because how many times has he heard those words from his own father?

“Then I guess we’re done here.”

That said, he leaves the room with his bundle to track down a doctor.

***

He spends the night in that hospital, sitting outside the ward for newborns and watching his baby sleep. The doctors told him he’s a normal healthy baby, and it wasn’t until those words were said that the possibility of his son being anything other than that is a thought he really can’t bear. There’s a newfound anxiety watching his baby sleep. He knew vaguely that babies get sick, that it’s a part of growing up, but what if it isn’t? What if his kid has a weak heart or a disorder or allergies so bad that one touch of a goddamn peanut means that his kid dies before the age of twenty.

Or what if someone hurts him? The Stark family has plenty of enemies and Tony still remembers Sunset Bain; will never forget her. What if someone does something like that with his little boy? What if someone uses him to get to Tony or Howard or Stark Industries.

What if someone hits him.

Tony chokes and spits at the dirty floor of the hospital corridor.

_I’ll kill them._

Tony laughs at his insanity. God it’s been hours and the thought of someone hurting his baby shoots adrenaline through his body and makes him damn near homicidal.

Or actually homicidal. Whatever.

The morning comes and the hospital staff begrudgingly let him leave with the baby alone, per the mother’s request. Tony catches a cab and it’s only when he’s in the backseat that he realizes that babies shouldn’t be in a car without a car-seat.

And that he has to go face his parents with a baby in tow.

“Um,” Tony says, “Go to the bank on 37th first. I’ll be right out if you want to drive me again.”

The driver takes one look at his ridiculously expensive outfit that he wore to the brunch date yesterday and grins.

***

He withdraws as much cash as he’s allowed from his family account and places it in his own, one that can’t be touched by Howard or his team of lawyers. The account was just a formality and preparation for his future but now, well…it’s just insurance. Tony doesn’t really believe he will be left with nothing when he shows up at home with their grandchild but he wouldn’t put it past Howard to demand he make his own way with a kid to care for.

He then directs the cabbie to a store for babies, something he sheepishly has to ask where he could find one, and with a hefty tip the man brings him to a warehouse-looking store with a colourful logo splashed along the side. He takes a single step in and immediately looks for help because he can’t even comprehend the amount of stuff he’ll need to buy to care for his baby. The attendant takes pity on him and his poor, screaming kid who hasn’t been fed since the hospital and is only wearing a hospital diaper and blanket.

He buys a blue onesie that’s thick and soft and formula that the lady actually brings him into the backroom to teach him how to properly heat up. His baby is quiet when he eats and it’s such a relief for more reasons than one. He then gets one of those slings that let him have his arms free while he carries the baby, but keeps one hand on the bundle anyways just to ease his mind.

Then the attendant leads him to an enormous bookshelf and Tony absolutely ensures he gets about a dozen thick texts about child-rearing. The attendant shakes her head but grins at his enthusiasm. At the end of the day Tony is left with a diaper bag, a giant bundle of clothes, a carrier and a harness to use when Tony actually feels confident enough to let his kid be supported by fabric.

…he’s probably going to build his own baby gear, but it’s fine for now.

When he’s ready to leave he calls the chauffeur and instructs him to drive the car a block from where the baby store is located, not wanting to tip his parents off before he can get there and defend himself. When the man gets there, dazed and horrified at the sight of a sleeping baby pressed to Tony’s chest. He gives him cab fare and an apologetic smile as he loads his kid into the car, then drives back to retrieve the rest of his haul.

And then…and then there’s nothing else to do but go home.

***

Howard could yell and scream all he wants but Tony’s not changing his mind. It’s weird, to be on the receiving end of a voice he had been afraid of his entire life and not feel any fear, only a bone-deep conviction and certainty that there wasn’t a force on this earth that could separate him from the boy in his arms.

But then his son starts crying at Howard’s yells and he can’t allow that.

“I’m not giving him up. Ever. You’re going to have to accept that and stop upsetting him.”

“Accept it? Accept you ruining our reputation on a whim? You don’t have even the smallest understanding of how to raise a child. What’s his name Tony, hmm? Did you even name him?”

Tony’s cheeks dust red but he just clutches his son closer. “Well, you named me and were still a shit father. I think I’m safe.”

And then Howard is barreling towards him, all hostility and hatred and Tony doesn’t know what to do. He turns his back and curl his body around his baby, hoping beyond hope that Howard has been drinking enough to hurt his coordination. It’s only a shove, Tony’s gotten worse from walking in New York crowds, but his head hits the wood paneled walls and he falls to the floor.

“Well lucky you Tony. I free you. You’re no son of mine.”

The baby’s wailing now, squirming as hot tears fall down plump cheeks and Tony runs before anything else can hurt him.

He gets fifteen minutes to pack a bag and we fills it fast, essentials like passports and clothes and toiletries. Tech and files and credentials and everything he can hope to think of is stuffed into a bag and thrown into the back of his car. He…his mother didn’t show. Locked herself in the library and refused to come out.

It doesn’t matter.

It doesn’t matter when he straps his kid into the car seat.

It doesn’t matter when he pulls out of his childhood home with a car full of baby supplies and a couple hundred dollars in cash.

And it doesn’t matter when he’s forced to pull over to the side of the road because he can’t see through the blur in his vision.

There’s a baby in the backseat who needs him, and that’s the only thing that matters.


	2. be the first

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love the Rhodes's

"Oh my god Tony.”

“I know.”

He’s been on the road for a few days now, wasting his money on hotel rooms and plowing through his supply of diapers until he finally works up the courage to give Rhodey a call.

He’s…less than impressed.

He’s trying not to be judgmental, Tony can tell, and he also knows that a lot of the disapproval comes from Tony not calling him sooner but he really can’t deal with any more scorn. Not when he has no idea what he’s going to do.

“Go to Philadelphia Tony.”

Tony chokes and only realizes then that he’s audibly crying. He has a new baby and he can’t even blame it on hormones God what a coward.

“Rhodey-”

“I can’t be there with you, but my mom is a saint and you can’t afford not to accept the help. Literally. Which is a thing I thought I’d never have to say but if you could’ve just kept it in your pants- She’ll take care of you and the little guy. I’ll call ahead, ask her to set up a room-”

“Rhodey I can’t! There’s no way I can do that she’ll hate me and then-”

“She won’t hate you Tony. She’ll slap the back of your head and that will be the end of it. Start driving.”

The line cuts off and Tony keeps crying but hope is alive again and they’re going to be okay.

***

A slap on the head is exactly what greets him but then he’s ushered in to a warm home and a hot meal and mama Rhodes has even pulled out a high chair even though Tony doubts his baby’s old enough to use it(right?? Babies had to…roll over or something first). Mama Rhodes isn’t shy from telling him how stupid he is, something he’s ironically heard a lot in his life considering his intellect, but she’s also not stingy with praise either.

And that’s welcome.

“I never liked Howard.”

“You’ve never met him.”

“Because he’s a piece of shit who wouldn’t return any of my calls.”

Tony laughs for the first time in months even while he covers his son’s ears (because that’s what a father does, right?) and Roberta offers him a smug smile, like she knows. Roberta doesn’t allow swearing in her household but apparently there are exceptions.

When the sky darkens and mama Rhodes forces him into Rhodey’s old bedroom there’s a crib set up next to the bedside table and he can’t speak with the amount of gratitude that wells up in his throat.

“Don’t worry son,” Mrs. Rhodes says, laying out an afghan at the foot of the bed, “this is a family neighborhood and there’s always someone with something to spare.”

Tony refuses to cry because he really needs to get over that but he does tell Roberta that he won’t need anything else from her after the first few days when he gets his affairs together.

“Try the first few weeks hon. That’s a newborn and I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

Maybe she can see the slight hurt in his eyes because she comes right up into his personal space and cups his face. “I know you think you can do this on your own, and you are very capable, but you’re nineteen Tony. You’re a baby taking care of a baby and I won’t have it, not when I can do something about it.”

God Tony loves her.

***

The first time he hears his baby laugh is a week after he’s born.

It’s beautiful.

***

So apparently _breast is best_ is a thing (and it will be a cold day in hell if his kid doesn’t have the best) and Tony is forced to buy donated breast milk which is gross as fuck but he does understand the idea behind building an immunity through the mother’s milk even if it is a wet science. He sends puppy-eyes at Roberta when he needs to feed little…the little baby but after a while he can handle it without flinching. The baby can’t really move yet, only wiggle his little hands and sleep. And poop.

Babies poop.

He knew that, when he was on the road with the little guy but it kind of got lost on his list of priorities. But when mama Rhodes shakes her head at his diaper technique he’s reminded at how disgusting it is, and also instructed about just how poorly he was wrapping the diaper.

With the essentials out of the way, Tony spends the next few days reading the parenting books he’d bought, with Roberta plopping down next to him and cooing over the pictures of babies in various stages of growth splashed across the pages. Mr. Rhodes is out of town on business, and apparently has no idea mama Rhodes has taken in strays. She keeps patting his shoulder any time he brings it up with a reassuring “I’m sure he won’t mind dear” which is not reassuring _at all._

So…he talks to his baby and drags him around the house and suffers a panic attack any time he thinks about his future or the future of his son and goddamn it he needs to get a job and support him how does he go about doing that? He’s qualified for a lot of different jobs but he can’t stomach leaving his kid out of his sight, can barely fall asleep at night for a lot of the same reasons. He needs a doctor and to pay for the doctor and it’s going to be winter soon he needs more clothes for the little guy and he needs to fucking _name_ him.

More days pass and the guilt of living there for free starts to creep up on him, smothering him with shame even though he knows he can’t offer to leave because leaving would just hurt the baby. He has a PhD for chrissake and he can’t think himself out of this situation?

He’s on the loveseat, staring out at the rain with his baby on his chest when the sound of a garage door opening shoots a bolt of adrenaline through his veins. He whips his head around at the sound and makes to stand but mama Rhodes forces him still with a glare.

“It’ll be fine Tony. You’ll see.”

Terrence Rhodes isn’t…he’s a very kind man, just stern and hard to talk to. Maybe it’s just him projecting but he reminds Tony too much of his own father for him to trust him, or develop the image where he comes home and welcomes the chance to care for a teenager and his newborn with open arms.

Mr. Rhodes hasn’t seen him yet, instead taking his wife into his arms and bodily lifting her in a little twirl and, huh, okay Howard certainly never did that but-

“Honey, I’m home! You are not going to believe what that uptight stick-in-the-mud no-good dirty rotten piece of _shit-_ ”

Roberta cuts him off with a giggle. “Not now dear, we have guests.”

She gestures his way and Tony feels his face warm but the sheer mortification on Rhodey’s dad’s face when he realizes he’s not alone with his wife is the most adorable thing he’s ever seen a grown man do.

“Right.” Mr. Rhodes says, coughing a little. “Well it’s nice to see you Tony. I’m going to go hop in the shower and then we’ll have dinner.”

Robotically, he makes his way up the narrow staircase and leaves Tony alone with his caretaker.

“He’s shy, the poor thing.” Mama Rhodes sighs lovingly, a twitch of amusement on her lips.

“He didn’t even notice the baby.”

She giggles into her hand. “Twenty bucks says he doesn’t even comment on it during dinner. You could bring in circus animals and he wouldn’t say anything. Wouldn’t want to make things awkward now would we?”

So…he may have misjudged Mr. Rhodes.

***

He doesn’t comment on it during dinner, but Roberta brings it up anyways.

“He has no place to go and a newborn, so he’s staying with us for a while.” She says, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world and not a huge sacrifice.

Mr. Rhodes just grumbles and keeps shoveling potatoes into his mouth but now that he’s looking for it Tony can see the flash of concern in his eyes and he wants to smack himself for ever comparing him to Howard.

Terrence Rhodes is a good man, and considering the son he raised he shouldn’t have expected any less.

***

It’s coming onto a month now since his baby was born and he still hasn’t named the kid yet. He got a birth certificate from the hospital but left it blank. A month ago he hadn’t even considered if he would even meet his baby but here he is, only him and the generosity of the Rhodes family being the thing between his son and starvation.

Either way, Mrs. Rhodes wants to celebrate his first month and far be it for Tony to refuse her after all she’s done.

She cooks a lavish meal after an afternoon at the grocery store and Tony makes sure to save the receipt because apparently delicious food has expensive ingredients. She plays with the baby while Tony records them with their home video camera, her making faces and moving the baby’s little arms around like he’s dancing. Mr. Rhodes is sat facing the TV but his eyes never leave the wholesome scene in front of him and Tony doesn’t blame him. He’ll run out of film soon but can’t find it in him to stop recording.

The best part of the evening though, is the gift.

“Take this Tony.” Mrs. Rhodes says as she hands him a hastily wrapped package. “Every kid needs a storybook.”

It’s a collection of classic fairy tales, and very old. The binding is so bent that all the original colours have faded from the leather and the cover only has a faded bunny rabbit that looks like it was drawn by the same artist who drew the coppertone baby.

“It’s from Terrence. He used to read to our babies all the time, it was his absolute favourite thing to do as a father.”

Tony whips his head to look at the older man, who is studiously avoiding any eye contact.

“Thank you, so much. This is more than anyone could ask for.”

Mr. Rhodes face scrunches up but he nods, crossing his arms and looking further away.

Well, that’s that.

***

Apparently the desire to hold a baby and smell it’s head far outweighs any shyness Mr. Rhodes might have because after only a few weeks he’s asking permission during playtime to hold him properly. Time has been passing way too fast and the little guy can already hold his head up and make noises. The Rhodes’s call him ‘the baby’ since Tony hasn’t named him yet (or sometimes ‘Tony’s baby’ and that leaves a weird squirming feeling in his stomach which he ignores) and absolutely adore him. The day the baby holds his head up all on his own he has a whole squad cheering for him.

So Tony is completely fine handing over his baby to Rhodey’s dad, and is completely unsurprised when the man starts cooing and making faces trying to get the little guy to laugh. Tony relaxes into the loveseat, resting his eyes with the sound of giggles trying to lull him to sleep.

“He’s a pretty handsome kid Tony.”

Just a bit startled at the sound of Mr. Rhodes making conversation, he takes an extra second to respond. “Thanks. I’m pretty sure he knows it too. Can’t wear sunglasses anymore without the little guy staring at his reflection.”

Terrence chuckles and boops the baby’s nose.

“No thought yet on what you’re going to name him?”

Tony cringes. “Lots of thoughts, no decisions.”

Terrence cocks his head and Tony curls up just a bit. “I wanted a family name.”

Mr. Rhodes hums and goes back to work entertaining his kid.

***

The baby’s four months along when Rhodey finally shows up.

They’d been talking on the phone throughout those months, with Tony whining over the line about how much he misses him. So of course the guy just decides to make his return a surprise and burst into his home with no warning whatsoever.

The loud crash of the door hitting the wall with his dramatic entrance makes Tony think it’s a break-in and he grabs the nearest lamp to use as a weapon, only to drop it (carefully, mama Rhodes would have killed him otherwise) and throw himself at his friend.

Rhodey holds him for as long as is manly and then lets go with a satisfied sound. “Okay, now that that’s done. Where’s my nephew?”

Rhodey makes grabby hands but Tony is all too happy to show off his baby.

“He can support some of his weight now. He’s developing really fast.” He can’t help saying just a bit smugly.

Rhodey rolls his eyes but then there’s his mom, carrying the cutest kid that has ever graced planet earth and he’s, of course, smitten.

“Oh what, no love for your mother after months of not seeing each other?” Roberta asks, teasingly. “Only for the baby huh? I see how it is.”

Rhodey sheepishly leans over and kisses his mother’s cheek, but grabs the baby from her arms at the same time.

“Sneak.” She pouts.

And it feels like home.

***

It’s two in the morning and the baby won’t stop crying.

Tony’s rocking him back and forth in the kitchen downstairs, away from the sleeping family (and Rhodey had to use his sisters bed since Tony’d moved in, something he grumbled over) and trying every trick in the book to just get the baby to fall asleep.

He tried feeding him or burping him and checked his temperature but as far as he can tell the baby’s just cranky because he’s tired.

“I don’t understand little guy. Just go to sleep okay? Just close your eyes and relax and-” A loud wail cuts off his pep talk and Tony is just seconds from crying himself when a voice from the doorway startles him.

“Did you try reading the book?”

Tony shuffles closer and wills away the ringing in his ears. “The book?”

Terrence nods. “The one we gave you.”

“You mean the one you gave me?” He heckles, just to see the man squirm. “He can’t understand the words yet.”

Mr. Rhodes raises an eyebrow. “Try it.”

And so he does.

Fifteen minutes later there’s a sleeping baby in his lap.

“Huh.”

Terrence nods sagely. “I never told Roberta, it felt like saying a wish out loud - like it would lose it’s magic if I told - but every single time our kids couldn’t sleep I would read that book. It never fails.”

Tony would argue, he hates the concept of magic, but the sleeping baby in his arms feels like a miracle.

Well, okay he can’t help but tease a little. “I wonder how the rest of the world gets their babies to sleep without this ‘magic’ book?”

Terrence raises an eyebrow. “I can take it back if you want.”

Tony chokes. “Please don’t.”

***

Christmas is coming up soon.

At this point Tony doesn’t really have any money to buy gifts, but showing up empty on Christmas after all the Rhodes’s done for him is not an option he can bear.

So…he fixes things.

He has no idea why he didn’t think of it before but he asks what needs fixing and he goes around the house and fixes it. It’s only a week before Christmas but he shoves in as many home repairs as he can, fixing electrical sockets and stove tops and light bulbs. He shoves in as much work as he can accomplish before the big day and then presents them all with handmade cards, each with long and flowery thank-yous just so they know how much they’ve done for him, how much they’ve helped.

Roberta cries, he may have gone a little overboard on hers, while Rhodey just pulls him in to a hug and messes up his hair. He didn’t really know what to write on the card for Rhodey’s sister, who’s visiting from university and beyond amused at her family tripping over themselves to make the baby happy, but he tried to be funny so it’s probably terrible. Terrence is blank-faced, but the way he perches the card in the Christmas tree is enough for Tony.

Especially after all they give him.

Well, give the baby.

A stroller. A brand new stroller made to last and more diapers and formula than he can carry.

Because apparently they haven’t done enough already.

Tony refuses to cry, but Rhodey teases him about his obvious appreciation anyways and they all sit down a few hours later to a beautiful meal with an evening so nice that it feels straight out of a movie.

***

And then…Tony has to leave.

He gets a letter in the mail from one of the many companies he’d applied to just a few weeks after Christmas and gets accepted. It pays a lot.

A lot.

He should be able to afford to live and daycare along with the insurance on the car the took from Howard (it’s under his name, sue him) and slowly pay the Rhodes’s back for everything they’d given him.

It’s in New York of course, because fate’s just that much of a bitch.

Bringing up the change is nerve-wracking but he has to, and part of him is so relieved to finally have good news for the family who’ve dealt with all his bad news but it feels wrong.

“So, I have some news.” And the family gathered around the dining room tense, which - rude.

“It’s good news! Well, I mean, yeah it’s good news.”

Mrs. Rhodes eyes him. “You don’t seem so sure Tony.”

Tony laughs awkwardly and scratches the back of his head. “Yeah well, um, the news is that I got a job.”

The tension seeps out of the room and Mr. Rhodes resumes eating. Roberta fondly shakes her head. “Gosh Tony I thought you were going to say something only you would think was ‘good news’. So where did you get it? I know there was an opening at the grocery store but I don’t think the hours are good for the baby-”

“Actually,” Tony coughs, “it’s working as an engineer.” Silence. “And it’s in New York.”

The silence after that is even more deafening, and the new tension tighter than a circus wire. Tony can’t tell what’s worse, the silence or how he can’t even force himself to look at their faces and gouge their reaction.

“Hah,” mama Rhodes laughs halfheartedly, “I guess we forgot about that big brain of yours, Tony. Does it pay well?”

Tony nods, still inspecting the varnish on the table.

“Well enough to support a baby by yourself?” Mr. Rhodes chimes in and he doesn’t sound happy.

Tony flinches but nods, fiddling with his hands in his lap and desperately looking for a way out of this conversation.

“Tony.”

His name forces his gaze to meet the eyes of the couple who’ve spent who knows how much money and time on him and his family and he desperately tries to straighten his spine.

Much to his surprise, Roberta Rhodes seems sad but faintly nostalgic, lips twitching even while her eyes are glassy. “So you’re moving back to New York.”

Tony breathes out slowly. “Yes ma’am. In about a week from now. The company is willing to put me up for a month.” He smiles ruefully. “They really want me.”

Mr. Rhodes grumbles and stands to clear the plates, leaving Roberta to reach across the table and squeeze his wrist. “We’ll help you get all your affairs in order, Tony. You won’t be alone in this move. It’s a big thing, starting your life.”

Tony shrugs and puts his own hand on Roberta’s. “You’re not upset?”

She raises her eyebrow. “Upset that I have a free-loader off my couch? Pshaw.”

Tony chuckles quietly, but feels his breath leave him at her next words.

“All my kids have to grow up sometime. I guess now it’s your turn.”

***

The week is spent ignoring the date where their lives for the last few months will come to an end and instead Roberta (who can’t stop herself from staring at the high chair they never used) forces everyone’s spirits up with her amazing cooking and a list of chores a mile long. Tony does each and every one of them but Mr. Rhodes is more aloof than usual since Tony’s announcement. They work together out in the yard but he doesn’t make conversation, the only few words he spares being instructions on how to repair a deck. Mr. Rhodes has grown to be someone Tony trusts and admires, especially with the baby and it’s horrible to be able to stand next to the man who basically mentored him in fatherhood and feel miles apart.

So, he has a plan. Step one; ply old man with cute baby.

Needless to say, step one works perfectly.

Step two…talk about feelings. Step two is _awful_.

“So, why are you avoiding me?”

Mr. Rhodes freezes where he was playfully lifting the baby in the air and gently settles him onto the playmat.

“I’m not avoiding you.”

That’s funny, Tony never thought Mr. Rhodes as one for lies.

“I-” Tony starts, not entirely sure how to have this conversation. “I just want you to know how grateful I am for all that you’ve done and put up with these last few months.”

Mr. Rhodes presses his lips in a tight line. “You don’t have to.”

Tony laughs incredulously. “Um, I really think I do Mr. Rhodes. It was more than anyone could ask for. Should ask for.”

The elder Rhodes shakes his head. “Not when it’s you asking Tony.”

And he doesn’t really know what to make of that so he stays silent, his heart in his throat.

Mr. Rhodes sighs. “You’re family Tony, I thought you would have realized by now. We wouldn’t be doing this if you weren’t.”

Family has never been a particularly positive concept for Tony, only a vague sense of responsibility, but seeing the father of his best friend hold his baby and say he’s one of his own is enough for him to see the real meaning of the word.

It’s been five months since his baby had been delivered and him summarily kicked out of the house and not once after that horrifying car ride has Tony cried.

Screw Rhodey’s dad for breaking his streak.

Tony presses a fist to his mouth, desperately trying to stifle his ridiculous sobbing so the baby won’t get riled up when he suddenly laughs.

“I know what I’m going to name him now.”

Mr. Rhodes eyes him warily.

Tony grins. “His name is Terrence. It’s a family name.”

It’s extremely gratifying not to be the only one crying.

***

“Tony?”

“Yeah?”

“Call him ‘Terry’ for short. Terrence is an old man’s name.”

“Stop calling yourself old.”


	3. to find your ears

Tony sighs at the array of tiny jars in front of him. Baby Terry can try solid foods now according to the book and Tony really wants to get that started. He’s purely on formula now but Tony would feel better if there was something solid in his stomach, even though it’s going to make burping him a lot more colourful. 

But there are just so many goddamn brands and he swears he read somewhere that half the shit on the shelf will kill you.

“What do you say Terry? Point to the one you want.”

Terry just keeps sucking on the plastic keys Tony got him to play with and kicking his legs out from where he’s dangled by the (reinforced) baby harness, his blond hair ( _blond, what the hell_ ) stuck up in every direction. He actually kind of looks a lot like Tony when it does that, even if the colouring is from his mother.

“Yeah I agree, it all looks pretty shady to me. Good thing I’m not the one eating it hunh?”

Terry strains to look up at Tony when he speaks and Tony grins at the babble he gets in reply.

“It’s not my fault you don’t have teeth. Gross green mush for you.”

Terry screeches just a bit too loud in glee and Tony looks up and down the aisle for anyone it might have disturbed.

“Shh!” He warns his baby, teasing. “You’re a little monster you know that? Can’t take you anywhere.”

Terry lets out one last “bah” then loses interest in the conversation and returns to his keys.

“Brat.” Tony says and then settles on the most recognizable brand name with the vague understanding that if it makes his kid sick he can probably sue for quite a bit of money.

Tony’s not wealthy like he used to be, and he’s certain a year ago he would have felt that what he makes now would be living in poverty, but those months living rent free at the Rhodes’s and making sure to save every receipt really shed some light on the worth of the almighty dollar. He’s fine, he can pay for child care and support his baby and himself, something that was inconceivable a month ago, but he’s not going to be buying a Lamborghini anytime soon. 

It’s really more than he ever hoped for the moment he was kicked out of his old life.

The checkout line at the grocery store is ridiculously long and when it’s finally his turn the cashier is harried but in high spirits, making faces at Terry while she rings up his groceries in record time. 

“He’s so gorgeous. Is your mom still recovering from the birth or is she up and moving around? I know when my baby sister was born it took her forever to recover; it was a C-section.”

“U-um,” Tony stutters, “my mom isn’t- I mean, it’s just me. The baby’s mine.”

The girl is clearly taken aback, then blushes and mumbles an apology which Tony waves off. “It’s okay.”

She shakes her head. “How old are you?”

Now it’s Tony’s turn to blush. “How old are you? You look twelve.” Because of course his defense mechanism is insults, but she does look young.

The girl cringes. “I’m fifteen, and I wasn’t asking that trying to be judge-y or anything, I just, um, are you okay?”

Tony shrugs and pulls out the bills he needs to pay. 

“Because, um,” the girl says, taking his money and ringing him up, “I work here every day after school from five to ten and if you need it I could give you a discount? Just don’t tell my manager, but if you’re all alone then I thought maybe you could use it? I’m sorry I’m not trying to be disrespectful.”

She finishes processing his purchases and hands him the receipt before helping him move the bags into his cart.

Tony can only stare.

“Um, I’m a total stranger. It’s not really your problem and I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble.”

“It’s no trouble! As long as you don’t tell everything will be fine. Just come in on an evening in the weekday and ask for Hanh. That’s my name. Uh, it’s Vietnamese so don’t worry if you can’t pronounce it.”

Tony’s still stock still in incredulity but manages to speak. “I don’t think Hanh is that hard to pronounce.”

“You’d think so right?” Hanh laughs, but it’s tinged with an old annoyance. “It’s one syllable God they always end up pronouncing it like ‘hand’ it’s so annoying.”

The customer behind him coughs rudely and Hanh flushes. “Anyways, offer still stands. Have a nice day!”

Terry gurgles at her enthusiasm but Tony just nods and gathers his things, still completely blown away at the offer.

***

And then it becomes a thing.

The company he works for now is some tech conglomerate that builds designs he wouldn’t even think of. Street lights, plumbing systems, traffic cameras, that sort of thing, and they usually sell to the government. It’s odd that they would want to employ the son of a weapons developer but apparently the Stark name is enough in any field for them to get a boost in sales. It has good hours, he only has to come in to the office three times a week, the rest he can design and do paperwork from home.

They put him up in a two bedroom condo that’s only about six hundred square feet per Tony’s request; he only wants to move once and would rather skimp out on a bigger place to actually have some savings in his bank account. A nasty surprise he finds is that all of the credit cards he was using before were all under Howard’s name, which means they’re all canceled and now he has no credit.

He needs credit.

Officially he has a cubicle but he designs the tech at home and then goes in to go over it with the supervisor and have a few meetings three times a week. It’s perfect for Terry, he only needs daycare for a few hours those three days, but for Tony those hours are…interesting.

There’s gossip, office gossip. Tony is the hot topic and, yes, there’s some contempt around the special treatment he’s gotten but the majority of the gossip is around his son. He hasn’t kept it a secret, even though apparently Howard’s PR team has been working overtime because there hasn’t even been a mention of his disownment in the gossip rags. Tony’s more than proud to talk about his son to anyone who happens to ask (and, yes, okay _maybe_ he’s turned into those people who carry a small photo album of his kid to pass around but whatever) but what he notices, what he noticed with the grocery store cashier, is the amount of concern peppering the questions they ask.

_“How often does the little guy poop?”_

__

“Often.”

__

“Are you sure you’re using the right kind of bottle?”

__

“Yup.”

__

“And what about diapers? How expensive are those guys nowadays anyways?”

__

_“I can afford it.”_

And on and on it went. It’s a little annoying having so many people ask about the essentials when all he wants to talk about is how adorable Terry looks in his cowboy outfit, but it feels…nice. Instead of feeling patronized or pitied he just feels cared for, and by random strangers who really shouldn’t care.

He blames it on Terry, the kid’s too cute for strangers not to be concerned.

They don’t stay strangers for long though.

Mr. Johnson, his direct supervisor, puts on ridiculously old-fashioned glasses with the tiny lenses and inspects his designs with a completely blank face and then breaks into little maniacal giggles as soon as he finishes his inspection. Watching a man who looks like Mr. Monopoly cackle at his designs may not be the best omen but Tony gets a kick out of it.

Sandra, the woman who works a cubicle over, has a _lot_ of dogs and works out enough it makes Tony clutch his stomach in worry about those few pounds you’re supposed to get when you become a parent. She’s training for a marathon apparently, and makes little comments about how _”you can buy those super tough strollers that you can run behind them you know? Running gets your endorphins pumping and I think you and the little guy would love it. Do you want to go running sometime? I’ll slow down for you. It’s okay I’ll just run at night too.”_ That woman can really talk.

Okay so Tony does buy that cool stroller but _only_ for running(and he usually only runs with Sandra, he needs new friends), he uses the stroller the Rhodes’s gave him for everything else.

Terry loves it when Tony runs. He goes slow, so worried about jostling the baby who has gotten into the habit of waving to literally everyone who passes by. It’s only a ten minute run, though sometimes it goes longer because when Tony stops Terry starts crying. One time he ran for close to an hour because of that kid. Brat.

Burt, the security guard who lets him in to work, is the friendliest asshole in the entire state of New York.

“So how’s the baby? The one who obviously didn’t get his cuteness from his father.”

“I have another baby? Who have you been talking to.” Tony asks seriously, taking out his I.D for Burt to check.

Burt grins. “Apparently you’re famous or something, people keep coming out of the woodwork to get a look at our boy genius.” Burt taps his chin. “No mention of the baby though.”

Tony winks but takes the opportunity to pull out his wallet and shove the newest picture of Terry sticking his tongue out.

“Nevermind.” Burt deadpans. “You mention your kid enough to make a gossip rag all your own.”

“If there was a magazine only full of pictures and stories of how adorable Terry is it would be the most successful magazine in the world. It would be translated into hundreds of languages and-”

“Oh my God Tony just go to work.”

***

Tony wants to say Terry’s first word was a magical moment where he looked into his eyes and said ‘dada’ and the universe aligned and everything made sense.

Instead, Terry points right at the giant zit on his face and says “Dot.”

His first word is an insult. 

Tony is so proud but is also never sharing that story with anyone.

The next word out of his mouth is ‘dada’ a few days later and that’s the story Tony will be sharing.

And he shares it. With everyone.

The thing is though, Terry hits his next milestone a few weeks after that and now Tony has to put plastic covers over the outlets because his idiot kid will crawl into literally every kind of trouble. He once gets himself stuck under the kitchen sink and teaches Tony a valuable lesson about putting locks on all the cupboards. 

It feels like a blink of an eye but then Terry’s holding on to the couch and pulling himself up. He may not have a whole squad cheering for him this time but Tony does his best to compensate.

A few weeks later and he’s standing without any help. Soon he’ll be walking and be even more of a little villain than he already is.

Of course, only then does Tony think to buy a baby book. A book which he has to restrain himself from bringing to work. 

***

He…he doesn’t know what to do.

It’s three in the morning and he has work tomorrow but he’s sitting in an emergency room with a baby who can’t stop screaming.

It’s Tony’s birthday tomorrow and his baby’s choking on his own tears. 

Terry coughs harder and Tony changes his position, holding him over his shoulder and hoping the fluid flows out and down his shirt like he’s used to rather than back into Terry’s lungs.

“Stark?”

Heads turn at the famous name but Tony is up and at the nurse in seconds, being led into an examination room. It’s not even a room, just a bed in a line of beds with curtains acting as dividers. There’s incredibly scary equipment that Tony could probably build better and the bed itself could have a better design and his baby should have the best shouldn’t he? He should. He _should._

“Mr. Stark?” The cheerful voice of the Doctor on call says, coming into their space without looking up from his clipboard. “What seems to be the trouble?”

Tony can’t speak, wanting to be upset at the cavalier attitude but only hands over his baby to be checked out. The doctor turns his baby this way and that but he’s gentle enough that Tony doesn’t kick up a fuss. 

“Ah, I think I know what’s wrong with you.” The doctor says, daring to press a finger to Terry’s nose.

Tony presses his lips together. “So what is it?”

“Hm?”

“What’s wrong with him?” Tony spits, clutching his arms so tightly the circulation cuts off.

The doctor eyes him, slowly setting the baby down to sit on the examination table. “I just have to make sure Sir, before I can give a diagnosis.”

Tony cocks his head. “Then do it.”

The doctor gives him a fake smile. “Of course.”

And then he checks Terry’s ears.

God it’s a _fucking_ ear infection.

It’s so common and written in all the books but it just completely slipped his mind and his baby is going to be completely okay he just needs some medicine he’s going to be okay _oh god._

Tony's desperately sucking in air ignoring the hot tears that fall down his cheeks.

“Okay.”

The doctor regards him when he picks up Terry and settles him in his lap, completely fine listening to his baby’s sobs because it means he’s alive and he’s going to stay that way.

“Son,” the doctor sighs, leaning against the exam table and folding his arms, “I really think you should get his parents in here to help with this.”

Tony clenches his teeth and looks away. “Can you give me something to treat it?”

The doctor looks heavenward. “Of course but I don’t know if we can let you leave.”

Tony let’s out a bitter laugh. “What’s the fucking point of filling out all those forms if you don’t read them? This is my kid. _My_ kid. He’s hurting and that needs to stop so just tell me what I can use to stop the pain and I’ll be on my way.”

The doctors smiles blandly. “I’m sorry mister Stark, how old are you again?”

“Nineteen and his legal guardian, so I would appreciate it if the twenty questions ended right now so I can take my baby home.”

“And where is home? Do you have a place to stay tonight? Can you even support this baby?”

A horrible idea tugs at the corner of his mind and he holds Terry closer. “I am completely fit and able to care for this child by myself, so do not do whatever you’re thinking of doing. Either give me a prescription or get me a different doctor.”

Terry’s still crying, but he’s squirming less now and Tony uses that to his advantage to gather his things. “Well?”

The doctor frowns. “Use infant pain reliever as prescribed on the bottle. If he shows no signs of improvement then bring him back and we’ll check again and then prescribe antibiotics. However, Mr. Stark, I’m not comfortable with Terry’s living situation. I know you think you’re doing the honorable thing but children shouldn’t be taking care of children, and I’m sure you can find someone good to take him in. He’s still very young and there are always couples looking to adopt.”

Tony pales. “I really don’t think any of this is appropriate doctor. Thank you for your help but I think we’ll be going now.”

The doctor shakes his head. “If that’s what you want. I’m going to make a note in his file so if anything comes up, malnourishment, stunted growth, or anything like that…” he trails off.

Tony stops crying then.

Everything stops.

_Don't you dare._

“Doctor…” he says, his voice carefully calm. “What is your name again?”

“My name?” He asks. “Uh, I’m Doctor Carl Hamilton. Did I not introduce myself?”

“No.” Tony says. “You didn’t.”

Before Doctor Hamilton can reply Tony is maneuvering Terry into a better position and reaching into his jacket pocket to pull out a legal pad.

“Spelled like the founding father, right?”

The doctor nods, shifting uncomfortably.

“The reason I ask, doctor, is that I just felt like you threatened to take my son away for no discernible reason aside from my age. Or maybe my gender? It doesn’t matter. What does matter is the fact that you _threatened_ my _child_ -”

“I assure you mister Stark,” Dr. Hamilton rushes to explain, “there was no threat implied-” 

“Oh, there was.” Tony spits. “It was pretty blatant. But here, let me give you a lesson on how you actually threaten someone.”

Tony stands, gathering his things and smiling meanly. “You _ever_ threaten me or my son again and I will sue you and this entire hospital until you have to sell your kidneys to pay the legal fees. You may think you have me figured out but I promise you, I have resources and connections that will make your life a living hell. So by all means, make that note in my son's file. It will be an absolute pleasure to drag your name through the mud.”

Tony shifts the diaper bag swung over his shoulder. “Stark isn’t exactly a common name Hamilton. Think on that and then maybe you’ll realize how much of a mistake you just made.” 

He stops by the drug store attached to the hospital to get more infant pain reliever even though he has some at home and immediately treats his son. In only a few minutes Terry starts getting drowsy and the ride home is a quiet one.

Tony…Tony’s teeth are barred and his hands shake on the wheel. He can’t stop himself from swearing himself hoarse every time the conversation plays over in his head, impressionable baby or not. He’s so steaming mad and beyond control that he might have violated a few traffic laws, something which he’d been very good about lately so he won’t have to pay any fines he can’t afford.

It’s when he gets home with Terry settled in his crib fast asleep that he locks himself in the bathroom.

And shakes.

***

“Happy Birthday daaaaaddy.” Jim jeers, leaning casually against the door frame to Tony’s apartment.

“Please don’t ever call me that again.” 

Jim grins, strolling into his apartment like he pays rent.

“Where’s Terry? Which, by the way, super cool of you to name your baby after my dad. I’m not even being sarcastic or anything, kind of expected it honestly. Can’t spend five minutes with the guy without wanting to name your kid after him, now that’s just classic Tony Stark right there…”

“He’s sleeping Rhodey. He has an ear infection.” Tony croaks.

It’s only then that Rhodey regards him, and, well, _shit._

He hasn’t slept the night before, that much is obvious, wearing only an over-sized MIT sweater and dirty pajama pants. His eyes are sunken and dark. Even more, Tony himself is curled inward, rubbing his arms soothingly and looking away from Jim’s probing stare.

“He’s sick?”

His best friend nods, leading Jim into the kitchen where he pulls out a non-alcoholic beer from the fridge. “I went to the emergency room last night. It’s not serious, it’s really common actually, I just overreacted.”

Jim takes the drink. “Overreacted how?”

Tony huffs. “Let’s just say I wouldn’t be surprised if news of Terry reaches the public soon.”

Jim hums, taking a sip.

“Well,” he replies carefully, “you knew you couldn’t keep it a secret forever.”

“Yeah, well.” Tony stuffs his hands in his pockets. “Rhodey, I have a question.”

“I haven’t heard you say _that_ very often boy-genius.” Jim teases, taking another sip.

“Har har.”

“Lay it on me.”

Tony wavers. “How old do I look?”

Rhodey laughs. “Let’s put it this way; there’s only a two year age difference between us and I don’t get carded at bars, where you could walk into a high school and people would ask whose younger brother you are.” Jim elbows him. “And then I would say ‘me’ because you literally named your baby after my father which makes us brothers. Sorry Tony, I don’t make the rules.”

That pulls a smile out of him, the first one that evening.

“So I look young then. Like there’s no way I would ever have a kid.”

Tony _shouldn’t_ have a kid. Well, at least that’s what Jim thought when he first got that collect call from some motel in Virginia, finding out that that dumb kid he’d made his best friend in MIT had nothing on him but a baby and a few bills. Then he’d come home and saw how he was with Terry, how he had seamlessly fit himself into their parents life. How…how at peace he was watching mom play with the baby. Jim would bet that that kid is the best thing that had ever happened to his friend. He’s away from his old life and starting a new one, something - in Jim’s personal opinion - he desperately needed.

“Well yeah, Tony. You look young. But you know, most people would consider that a good thing.” 

Tony shrugs. “Not when you’re raising a baby.”

Jim sighs and puts down his drink. “Stop beating around the bush Tony. What happened.”

“I-” Tony chokes. “A doctor threatened to take Terry away.”

Alarm courses through Jim and he jumps from his seat but Tony continues as if he hadn’t noticed. “He said that he would write something in Terry’s file and if he sees any indication o-of _abuse_ basically then he would take my kid away and you know I would _never_ but what if I _can’t_ take care of him? It was only an ear infection! I should have been able to handle it but I couldn’t even recognize it oh my god what am I going to do-”

“You’re going to calm down and tell me the doctor’s name because that shit is illegal Tony. He cannot threaten you like that or put whatever bullshit note in Terry’s file. Who the hell does he think he is? Which hospital was it? I’m going to be in town for a few days and it doesn’t hurt to tell the prick to get a lawyer. Or just go straight to the guy who owns the hospital and take it up with him. Let’s see him threaten you when he’s out on the streets, the prick.”

Tony’s crying now but he’s laughing too, clutching his side as he wipes his tears. 

“T-the thing is Rhodey,” he giggles, “I said the same thing. Threatened the guy back. Said that he would have to face the power of the Stark family. I felt like I was back in boarding school and one of those kids who threatened teachers when they got a bad grade.”

“I think this guy deserved to be threatened more than the poor teachers at that rich-boy school.”

Tony laughs again but there’s an edge of self-depreciation in it and Jim has had enough.

In two strides he has the boy in his arms and prays he won’t push him away. “So I guess that’s why you think people are going to find out about Terry hunh?”

Tony nods into his chest, sniffling just a bit.

“We knew it was going to happen. It won’t be the end of the world, and honestly I never knew Tony Stark to cry this much. It’s freaking me out.”

Tony wrinkles his nose and pushes Jim away. “You’re supposed to be comfortable with crying when you’re a parent, or else the kid will catch on to the stifling of emotions and copy you; emotionally stunting them as well.”

Jim crosses his arms. “Oh yeah, you’re at a real risk of being a shit father there Tony. I mean, you didn’t even tell me the title of the parenting book you got that from. Though I guess it’s hard to remember since you’ve read so many.”

“I actually got that from a psychology paper on child development.”

Jim’s eyes widen. “You read a _psychology_ paper? Didn’t you used to go on and on about psychology being a useless field of study that should never be considered a science?”

Tony rolls his eyes. “I was a dumb kid who didn’t have to take care of another dumb kid. I have seen the light, leave me alone.”

“I’m sorry,” Jim laughs, “have I gone insane? Tony Stark respecting psychology? It’s like Tony Stark respecting political science.”

“It’s not a science! Holy shit why the fuck is that what it’s called it’s not a science any way you slice it-”

A baby’s wail breaks through their conversation and Tony rubs his eyes. 

“Hey.”

Tony yawns into his hand and gets up to riffle through the cupboards. “Hmm?”

“When’s the last time you slept?”

Tony eyes him. “You can’t exactly blame me for not sleeping right now Rhodey. It’s not like I’m staying up all night building a robot, there’s a baby in the other room.”

Jim breathes out slowly and shakes his head. “Go to bed, I got this one.”

He rises from the table, downing the last of his drink and taking the infant pain reliever from Tony, who’s looking at him dubiously.

“I took care of my sister all the time, I got this. Go get your rest you crazy bastard, we’ll deal with your problems in the morning.”

Tony grumbles about disrespect and how ‘it’s literally morning right now’ but does eventually give in and retreat to his room, even if Jim had to give him a little push.

And then Jim gets to take care of a little baby.

He grins down at the little guy who’s stopped crying to regard him, suspicion in his tiny adorable little eyes. 

“Oh, you don’t remember me? That’s just rude. Tony needs to raise you better.”

Terry sniffs in derision. 

“Wow, you know, you do look a lot like him.” Jim says, reaching down into the crib to give the baby a little tickle.

Terry squeals but coughs, and looks like he’s thinking about crying again.

“Woah hey hey that’s no fun! Here,” Jim says, sitting up the little guy and pressing the syringe full of medicine in to Terry’s mouth. “There we go little dude. This is going to make you a bit sleepy. I would have liked to spend more time with you but I’d much prefer you were healthy when we do it.”

Terry coughs again.

“Yeah I know, it sucks. But hey! When you get better you can play with your uncle Rhodey. So get better soon you little monster.” Jim leans down to whisper in Terry’s ear. “Or else daddy might end up killing someone.”


	4. what is brighter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short chapter setting up some stuff and baby terry being the cheeky little shit he is. But next time...PLOT happens...i know im surprised too

A full year.

Well…almost.

It’s eleven in the morning and Tony has a mix-tape with _Eye of the Tiger_ and _Chariots of Fire_ made to repeat for half an hour with, okay, one Madonna song to mix it up. Terry is dressed in neon ‘running shorts’ and a white tank top with the most adorable little running shoes and sweat-bands on his wrists and pulled over his forehead. He’s the picture of athleticism if only he wasn’t twenty pounds and a baby.

The most adorable athlete who’s turning one year old Today.

“Okay kid.” Tony says, thematically dressed in a ridiculous blue stripped tracksuit like a the gym coach he never listened to. He holds Terry steady and gets in front of him, making sure he’s at the best part of the song to start the process of achieving what they set out to do today. 

Walking.

Terry’s taken a few steps already, and wasn’t that the best thing to ever happen ever. He’d pulled himself up using anything he could get his grubby little hands on and taken a few assisted steps with the cheekiest grin a baby can make, craning his little neck this way and that always making sure Tony was in his line of sight.

But today he’s going to take more than three steps, and Tony has the mood music to make it happen.

Just as survivor starts up Tony takes three adult-sized steps back and grabs two cheap pompoms he’d bought at the grocery store and gets on his knees to wave them in front of Terry.

Terry whines at the distance between them but Tony quickly intervenes. “Hey! Hey buddy it’s okay I’m right here. See?” Tony waves the pompoms in a little jig and Terry’s mouth drops open. “I know I know, I’m an awesome cheerleader but I’m a lot better close up. What do ya say baby?” Tony asks, dropping the pompoms and opening his arms. “Wanna come over to this side of the living room?”

“Dada!” Terry cheers, stretching out his arms in his direction. 

“Yes! Yes Terry come to Dada.” 

_It’s the, eye of the tiger-_

Terry takes a few steps and a giant grin stretches across Tony’s face. “This is awesome! Come on baby you’re almost here.”

Terry runs, _runs_ the last few steps into Tony’s arms and Tony easily swings him up and around in a victory twirl before settling him on his hip. 

“You make this stuff look easy Terry!” His son giggles at the enthusiasm but outright shrieks at the series of raspberry’s to his little belly. “You think you can do it again? Hmm?”

Terry gurgles but before he can set him down for round two the intercom buzzes.

“Oh? And who could that be Terry?”

“Dada!”

Tony hums. “Close, but I’m right here. Who in the world do you think would want to see you on your first birthday ever?”

“Dada!”

Tony keeps talking to Terry, steering him to the intercom that keeps buzzing and trying to get Terry to say ‘unca Rhodey!’ like he’s gotten into saying because it’s the best thing he’s ever said.

“Well, let’s see hunh?”

Tony presses the button on the intercom and startles when a voice that is definitely not Rhodey’s greets him. “Tony? Tony is that you? Can you let me up?”

Tony jumps and excitedly presses the talk button. “Ty? Is that you? Holy sh- Ty come up!”

“Up!” Terry copies and in only a few seconds Tony throws open the door to his apartment and wraps up his old high school buddy in a one-armed hug.

Ty looks the same, if a little more filled out than he was in private school. His face is slightly more lean but Ty was always more developed than any of the other kids. He still looks like he walked out of a catalog and worth a million dollars, he hopes Terry does spill something on his coat because no way he can afford to pay that dry-cleaning.

“Holy shit Tony.”

Tony frantically shushes him but the damage is done. 

“Shit!” Terry squeals.

All his hard work, wasted.

“You fucker.” Tony says, leading Ty into the living room to put Terry in his playpen. 

“Shit!” Terry yells again and Tony sends Ty the _nastiest_ glare. 

“I-I’m sorry Tony but _holy-_ ” 

Tony rushes forward and claps a hand over Ty’s mouth. “Shh! Stop swearing in front of tiny children!”

Ty bats his hand away. “I’m swearing _because_ of the tiny child.”

Tony pretends to be shocked. “Tiny children make you swear? Kinda sounds like something you should discuss with your overpriced therapist.”

“Har har.” Ty shakes his head. “What happened Tony? Did you seriously forget to rubber up? You?”

Mildly affronted, Tony turns away with a sniff to search his fridge for something to offer Ty. “I’ll have you know, condoms don’t work one hundred percent of the time.”

Ty shakes his head. “So you were wearing a condom?”

“Irrelevant. Also it was over a year ago, I really can’t remember.”

Ty snorts. “Sure. More importantly, what in God’s name made you do _this?_ ”

Ty gestures around the room and Tony is honestly confused. “…Get an apartment? Is it the interior decor that you’re talking about? I didn’t pick it, kids liking colourful plastic toys did.”

Ty laughs a bit incredulously. “Why is there even a kid at all Tony?”

And now Tony kind of gets where this conversation is going but he really doesn’t want it to happen. “Do I have to teach you the birds and the bees too? You’d think you would have figured that out by now.”

“Tony.”

Tony groans and pulls out a bag of chips. “I don’t know what you want from me Ty. A girl had my kid, wanted money in exchange for the kid, I took the kid and she didn’t see a dime. End of story.”

“So this was all out of spite?” Ty asks, taking a handful. “You seriously left your family behind because some girl wanted a little money for her kid? God Tony.”

“Um,” Tony grits out, “I’m sorry, have I lost my mind? Did you seriously just say that after five minutes of seeing each other for the first time in five years?”

Ty rolls his eyes. “Why do you think I’m here? You threw your life away on an impulse Tony. You took a kid away from his mother-”

“Don’t you _fucking_ dare Ty.” Tony snarls. “You don’t know Steph, you didn’t see the way she looked at him. She’ll take care of Terry when I’m dead and buried-”

“A kid needs to be with his mother.” Ty states, voice the most strained Tony had ever heard it.

And it takes all the wind out of his sails.

Because Ty had been his friend, he’d heard every story Tony had of how he hated his dad but read between every line about the level of devotion he had for his mom. Ty, who had his own problems with seeing his mother, her being the wife of the CEO to Stane Inc means that his father dragged her around the world while they stayed at boarding school and grew bitter.

Tony clenches his teeth, then forces himself to release the tension in his body.

They sit there in silence, Ty gauging Tony’s reaction.

Tony sighs. “Do you want to know a secret?” Ty shrugs. “Terry’s middle name is Carbonell.”

Ty looks on in confusion and Tony drags a hand down his face. “It’s mom’s maiden name.”

Ty purses his lips and looks away. 

And Tony gets it. He gets that he can’t understand how Tony could raise a kid by himself, he probably doesn’t get how any man could raise a kid by himself and have that kid grow up healthy. Tony wasn’t exactly an example of responsibility in private school, and he wasn’t even a bit better over a year ago. 

But he’s different _now_ and that’s all that matters. 

He just has to make Ty see that.

“Hey,” Tony asks, “do you want to meet him? Properly?”

Ty shifts uncomfortably and Tony feels for him, if someone offered him to hold someone’s baby a year ago he would have reacted the exact same way.

Making the choice for him, Tony walks over to the baby-cage and grabs Terry from where he was trying to stage his usual escape. He hauls him up so that he’s right in front of his face and takes a hold of his little baby hand which he extends towards his friend.

“Hi!” Tony says in an obscenely high-pitched baby-voice. “My name is Terry! I like green mush and-”

“Tony.”

Tony cringes but keeps going. “Nope!” He replies. “My name is Terry! Close though.”

“This is the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done Tony.”

Tony tuts and lowers his son so he’s resting on his hip. “I’m adorable. Look at my kid, the proof is in the pudding.”

Ty laughs quietly and considers him.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Tony asks, giving Terry a finger to suck on.

“For now.”

“Great!” Tony says. “Can we go back to being happy to see a long-time friend? Because these chips aren’t going to eat themselves and if we aren’t quick then this little monster will want one and he can’t have any which means he’s going to cry when we say no and then we’re going to have a crying baby on our hands and trust me, that’s _not_ what you want-”

“Aw, give the little guy a chip Tony.” Ty interrupts, teasingly taking a chip and waving it in front of Terry.

“He doesn’t have any teeth!”

“Hmm.” Ty hums. “I swear I saw some pearly whites in there.”

“Yeah, well…” Tony says, readjusting Terry so that he’s angled away from Ty, but grinning brightly at the change in Ty's voice. “Not enough to chew chips.”


End file.
